Soundwaves & Octaves
by Confused Panda Bear
Summary: [M-Rated] Matsuoka Gou is given the opportunity of a lifetime - to manage one of the most promising rock bands in Japan. So of course she has to mess it all up by sleeping with the handsome and talented, but cold and emotionally damaged lead guitarist, Nanase Haruka…
1. Track 1

**Soundwaves and Octaves**

 **By Confused Panda Bear**

* * *

 **Track 1.**

* * *

 _Give me love like never before  
'Cause lately I've been craving more_

His lyrics were like a string of beautiful thoughts, barely legible on the backs of various, random documents as if the author barely had time to write them down before the words dissolved into the early hours of the morning.

A flyer for a local pizza place.

An old bank statement from almost three years ago.

 _Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt  
_ _Told you I'd let them go_

They were good, she admitted reluctantly.

Really good.

Nevertheless, Gou shuffled through the mismatch of papers with a frown on her face; her figure shadowed onto vast meeting room table behind the back light of a _PowerPoint_ presentation she too, had stayed up all night putting together.

She had asked the band to contribute something to their meeting this morning, and though they had kept their word, she had hoped they would have put in a _little_ more effort into their preparation.

"Good morning, Gou-chan~!" marked the punctual arrival of the band members – most notably Hazuki Nagisa who swiftly became occupied with the complimentary tea and pastries laid out for them on the credenza.

Gou bit back a retort, knowing by now that correcting the pronunciation of her name only made it worse.

Despite his sweet, chocolate-box looks, their drummer Nagisa stayed true to his chosen instrument and was always happiest when he was making as much noise as humanly possible.

Following shortly after him was Ryugazaki Rei, the former-classical-cellist turned rock-band-bassist.

Against his parents wishes, Rei had left the concert halls and the pricey, private tuition for a life on the road.

Though the label of 'black sheep' of the family didn't really suit him – he was as straight-laced and as serious as you could get – he still became a fan favourite because of this somewhat 'rebellious' past.

Tachibana Makoto arrived a few minutes after, his first word an apology to Gou for being marginally late for their meeting.

Makoto – with his boy-next-door looks and his voice of an actual angel – was the mother's choice: the handsome, charismatic front man and lead singer of the band.

He was the best kind of leader: confident, but humble and fair. And because of this, Gou relied on him as the group mediator, the voice of reason – especially when it came to dealing their lead guitarist.

A child-prodigy-musician at age nine: their final member was the archetype of sensitive, brooding artist.

Despite his renowned talent, he was a private, standoffish person – which conveniently came across as 'dark' and 'mysterious' to their squealing, teenage fanbase.

Having been hailed a genius his entire life, he was not used to answering to anyone when it came to his music – which, in other words, made him absolutely impossible to work with.

But in spite of Gou initially vocal sentiments, his fellow band members agreed wholeheartedly that without him, there would be no band to begin with – so she resigned to tolerating his attitude as best she could.

She looked up from her notes – only just then registering the aforementioneds non-presence in the room.

With laser focus, her eyes darted towards Makoto and the vacant seat beside him.

He answered her with an apologetic, almost tentative shrug.

She could see her vision turn red, and the boys in the room flinched prematurely at her pending outburst.

"Okay..."

Gou breathed in to sustain herself, before letting loose nonetheless.

"...Where the fuck is Haruka-senpai?!"

* * *

With squared shoulders and steam blowing from her ears, Gou stomped through the hallways of the _Matsuoka Studios_ building, muttering death threats and curse words under her breath.

Ignoring the looks of her concerned – and slightly terrified – colleagues, she stumbled into one of the small practice rooms to find her victim slumped onto the keys of a black grand piano.

She almost rolled her eyes.

Nanase Haruka could be so predictable sometimes.

He practically lived in here, surrounded by sheets of score, pencil shavings and cigarette butts in ashtrays.

Today, he was lying with his forearm pillowing his head, whilst his other hand composed a simple tune that, along with the forlorn expression impressed across his face, tugged at her heartstrings in a way that only his music could do.

Momentarily, she stilled and let the notes reverberate upwards from the base of her spine.

"Haruka-senpai–"

The melody came to an abrupt halt mid-bar and the pianist blinked up at her as if he had only just noticed her arrival.

With a heavy sigh, Haruka straightened up and drove a lean set of fingers through his hair: his natural reaction whenever she was around.

Gou took a step towards him defiantly.

"–Didn't you get my calendar invite?" she said, shaking her smartphone in his face.

Haruka regarded the piece of technology with a vacant expression, and Gou wondered why she had wasted her breath even asking.

His phone had probably been switched off for days.

"We had a meeting this morning," she informed him tersely, only to be answered by a jarring chord of protest as the man slumped back down onto the keyboard once more.

Her eyes narrowed at him dangerously.

"You need to turn up to these meetings, Haruka-senpai. The band and I were discussing your new lyrics and tour dates for the summer–"

"–Too much effort," he expounded without much concern, and Gou balled her fist at him.

"Haruka-senpai!"

Exasperated, the girl strode closer towards him, her slim hips coming into his view.

She was talking about something – nagging, more like – but his gaze quickly bore of her moving mouth and travelled south.

His blue eyes narrowed at her in blatant scrutiny, taking in the fall of her crimson hair, the delicate curve of her neck; his gaze passing over her skirt and her knee-high boots and taking unashamed note of every curve he found en route.

It was a look that Nanase Haruka had mastered: one that made her feel as if the world had fallen around him and the object of his interest.

The kind of look that made her melt.

Boldly, he lifted a hand and reaching out to her skirt, fingered the checked material before caressing the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

Her breathing hitched and he smiled, lazily.

"–Did you wear this just to piss me off?" he interrupted, with a rough edge to his voice.

With a flushed face, Gou struggled for an answer.

Haruka was her brothers age, and though only four years older than her, would take it upon himself to treat her like a child whenever suitable for him – despite her obvious authority as his manager.

He would never be shy to tell her that her skirt was too short, that her top was too low cut, but would always be connected to those supermodels and actresses that couldn't seem to wear anything that wasn't cut out, cropped or at least showed a little bit of their underwear.

She bristled at his audacity.

"Don't think that I wear anything for your benefit, Haruka-senpai" she finally managed and spinning her heel, made to leave with the final word.

As she stepped past him, the cover of the piano slammed shut with a noise that bounced against the narrow walls and made her jump five feet out of her skin.

In her surprise, Haruka curved a light hand at the small of her back to still her, hauling her between himself and the instrument.

"You're right," he said, his forehead resting against hers. "You don't need to wear anything at all for me..."

His hands sank beneath her and slid underneath her thighs.

"Haru–!" she managed to yelp, before he lifted her up onto the piano, eyes burning into hers and hips neatly set between her legs in one, swift motion.

He captured her final protest with his lips – hard, urgent and insistent as always – and with the same urgency, pushed her clothes aside like he was too impatient to wait to remove them, his hands working her in such a way that made her defences crumble at his every touch.

She could feel her surrender, that hot wire of sensation pull towards him and reacted in panic.

With hands gripped at his elbows, Gou parted their lips with an audible sigh and they stared at each other, chests heaving for breath already.

"I _hate_ you," she said, the bite in her words having no effect on the handsome grin plastered across his face.

He planted a quick kiss on her lips, and another on the tip of her nose.

"I know."

With one, final glare, Gou wound her arms around his neck and brought their bodies together, revelling in the deep moan of appreciation Haru released against her mouth.

She locked her ankles around his rocking hips and the piano legs shifted back a few inches with their movement.

She sank her teeth into his shoulder, biting back a moan he was drawing from her throat.

Oh, _god_.

It was a good thing these practice rooms were soundproof.

* * *

 _All I want is the taste that your lips allow  
My, my, my, my, oh give me love_


	2. Track 2

**Soundwaves Octaves**

 **By Confused Panda Bear**

* * *

 **Track 2.**

* * *

Hanamura Chigusa stared at the girl sitting opposite her with bored expression impressed across her face.

Resting her knuckles against her cheek, she noisily shook the plastic cup of what was the remainder of her iced-frappuccino – in partial disbelief that she had managed to finish the entire beverage without a sound explanation from her best friend.

Gou – in the meanwhile – was unmoving: slouched in her seat with her forehead firmly plastered to the tabletop between them.

She heaved a heavy sigh.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Gou…"

Chigusa no longer had the capacity for sympathy. By now this – whatever _this_ was – had become some sort of weekly routine.

The girl glared up at her from between her bangs.

"It's just..." she struggled to articulate her mental state. "I don't understand why this keeps happening..."

Chigusa shook her head.

Like _she_ had the answer to _that_.

"It's a thing you both lack called self-restraint–"

"–You're not helping, you know–"

"–It's because I've completely given up on you, Gou–"

"–You can at least try to be a bit more...empathetic about–?!"

"–I _can't_ , Gou, because I honestly don't know what you're complaining about!"

The red-head was left with her mouth hanging open, speechless as she watched her friend laugh with some sort of sadistic enjoyment from her apparent misery.

"It's wrong," she reiterated for the umpteenth time. "I'm his manager, he's my client...and yes, he's really hot – but that is beside the point! It has absolutely nothing to do with it...!"

Her pretty face pursed into a pout and Chigusa almost felt bad for her.

Almost.

Having known Gou for almost half their lives; knowing her upbringing and how that shaped the woman she had become, Chigusa could easily understand how this act of unprofessionalism would be eating her up inside.

Newly graduated at twenty-two, Gou had taken on the challenge of managing one of the most promising bands in Japan.

There were critics who told her that she was too inexperienced, too underqualified – reminding her that she never managed anyone, let alone an already well-established rock band.

But the truth was: Gou was amazing at her job.

She was the smartest person she knew, and the most hardworking.

When Gou set a goal in her mind, she would stop at nothing until she achieved it – which was why she had fought with her own grandmother for the opportunity, and even personally approached Tachibana Makoto and managed to convince him to give her the time of day.

But that was what Chigusa worried about the most.

Gou was on permanent, full speed ahead.

And where she slipped up and made little 'mistakes' like these, she would blame herself without forgiveness – even though Chigusa suspected that in her industry this sort of thing happened all the time.

"...He just makes my life so difficult," Gou was saying, mostly to herself. "...All he talks about is being _free_ – whatever the hell that means..."

Her chest expanded with a sigh and Chigusa reached across the table between them, taking her small hands in her own.

"Gou-chan," she spoke slowly, as if explaining something complex to a child. "Let's look at this objectively. You're young, you're single. You have a cool, glitzy job that anyone would die for. You get to hang out with hot guys every day...!"

The girl regarded her with a sceptical stare, forehead creasing in an 'I'm-not-sure-where-you're-going-with-this' kind of way.

Chigusa returned it with a pleading look:

"...why don't you try to – enjoy yourself a little? Take advantage of the... _perks_ of the job?"

Gou appeared to take a minute to understand what she was getting at, and when she did, snatched her hands back and placed them on her lap, straightening her spine to fix her posture as if her body were righting itself of any sinful thoughts that she might have planted in her mind.

Still, her voice was unsure.

"I...I shouldn't..."

"Come in, Gou!" Chigusa raised her hands to the heavens for some divine support. "When have you ever done something that was bad? Broken the rules, for once?"

Gou opened her mouth for an answer that didn't exist.

"I don't..."

There was a moment of deliberate silence, one to let the poor girl contemplate her proposal.

With elbows on the table and hands curled under her chin, Chigusa lent forward in her seat – tactically changing the subject before the girl could overthink herself into a brain haemorrhage.

"So..." she smiled, wickedly. "...How was it?"

"How was what?"

Gou blinked, only to be answered with a pointed look that made the heat rise up on her neck.

She closed her eyes and threw her head back with a defeated sigh.

"It was," she sobbed, "so – _unbelievably_ good."

Chigusa laughed.

"You hate each other," she spoke like it was a summation of her words. "That's why the sex is so good."

* * *

The upside about Gou's situation was that she and Haruka bickered so much: no one suspected a thing.

You see, the soul of an artist like Nanase Haruka, who could convey emotions with his guitar in a way that even a poet would envy, appeared to be manufactured on an entirely different planet to a girl like Matsuoka Gou.

Gou, who hadn't a musical bone in her body, was the complete opposite of Haru.

She was schedules and order; meeting targets, making sales – and he was, well – _free_ from all of that.

They clashed within the first five minutes of meeting each other.

"What _is_ this?"

Were the first words he ever spoke to her.

He was talking about the pamphlet she had prepared for their meeting, waving it in a manner that suggested the contents were somehow preposterous to him.

Taken aback by his brash tone, Gou took a moment to find her words. She had been going through the handout step-by-step and was, back then, dismayed by the fact that he had not been paying any attention to her.

It was her first day on the job and everyone had been so friendly and responsive to her suggestions up until now.

"I–It's your schedule for the next week," she answered, not as steadily as she had hoped.

"What does–" he peered down at the timetable. "–6:45am - PT mean?"

Momentarily stunned, Gou's eyes slid towards Tachibana Makoto for guidance, who sent her an unhelpful smile of encouragement.

She decided to take Haruka's question as interest in an attempt to remain upbeat.

"I was just getting to that," she cleared her throat. "Now that you are under contract with _Matsuoka Studios_ , you are welcome to use all of our partner facilities in this building..."

As she spoke, Gou handed out the fancy, silver access cards to the group, conscious of the way Haruka turned the plastic in his hand dubiously.

"...There is a newly renovated gym and leisure centre downstairs, where I've booked an intensive boot-camp course with one of their highly recommended personal trainers," Gou continued, trying to somehow make the invitation sound as appealing as possible. "I met with him personally and I think he will be a great fit for you guys. Not saying that you're in bad shape, but–"

"–But you plan on making us do shirtless photoshoots to sell and objectify our bodies?" Haruka cut her off with a tone too serious to be mocking.

The others tried to laugh it off, but Gou could feel her cheeks burning and her mouth run dry of words.

Though that _had_ been on the agenda somewhere down the line, she genuinely wanted them to know that their health and well-being was just as important under her studio's management – and not just the money that they would potentially make.

But before she could articulate this response, the guitarist trained his narrowed eyes back onto the schedule and she could see him picking holes and disapproving points as he scanned the document over once more.

Defiantly, he tossed the silver card back across the table to her.

"I don't need this. I swim every morning," he announced like it was some sort of excuse and by now, Gou was losing all patience with his callous tone.

"Well, you can do that _and_ see your Personal Trainer."

What followed was a tension in the room that you could cut with a knife.

The three other band members watched the two with bated breath, eyes shifting between them as if they were following a very intense tennis match.

Gou held his gaze, daring him to respond.

Thankfully, Haruka said nothing for the rest of the meeting – though the permanent glare on his face was hard to ignore.

When he did not turn up to the gym the next morning, Gou took the act of defiance as a declaration of war.

After that, it seemed as if he went out of his way to make her life as difficult as it could possibly be.

Whilst Gou tried to exercise authority and whip him into line, Haruka would retaliate by not turning up to anything she had scheduled that did not involve practising music. And when he did – and only when Makoto forced him to – he would make a point of completely disengaging himself in the activity that his presence became unworkable either way.

"Nagisa-kun. Where is Haruka-senpai?"

It was the evening of the _High Speed!_ launch event: a prestigious, high profile affair where Gou was to formally announce to rest of the company, their sponsors and to the press, that the band were signing a brand new record deal with _Matsuoka Studios._

Along with the venue, the catering, and a guest list that needed to be revised half a dozen times, Gou had to coach the band members in the correct decorum for interacting with the media and the studio's senior members of staff.

But because Haruka hardly ever turned up to these meetings, Nagisa had been tasked with keeping an eye on him.

It became apparent that he had not been doing a good job of so, having lost track of the guitarist as soon as the canapés began circulating the crowds.

The blonde looked around them, a sandwich in each hand.

"Oh, sorry Gou-chan. He was just here…" he said, and Gou resisted the urge to strangle the boy – restraining herself only because she didn't want to ruin the outfit she had so carefully picked out for him to wear tonight.

"I haven't seen him since he arrived. Do you know where he might have gone?" she asked, and Nagisa chewed, thoughtfully.

"Hmm. Have you tried looking outside?"

She had rented the top floor of a swanky members club in the heart of the city for the evening, which had a sweeping bar, standing tables and scattered sofas for mingling.

There were no more than a hundred people present for the evening, but the venue was buzzing with their movements, almost to the brink of being overfilled. No one seemed to be inclined in using the additional roof-terrace space available, and with good reason. It was the middle of March and they were probably trying to avoid the biting spring weather – admittedly an oversight on Gou's part.

Sceptical at first, Gou squeezed through the crowds and headed to the glass doors to towards the terrace, where a long, rectangular pool lined with empty sun loungers lay.

The pool and the surrounding buildings were the only sources of light out there, so she did not spot him immediately, standing by the railings and lighting a cigarette with a little difficulty due to the wind.

To her surprise, he was not alone.

Braving the cold weather to join him, she watched as he helped his pretty, female companion light her cigarette too, their faces so close that Gou felt as if she were imposing on an intimate moment.

She stopped a few yards away from them, and when her arrival went unnoticed, she cleared her throat.

"Haruka- _senpai_."

The girl with him startled at her unexpected arrival. Even in her simple uniform, she was stunning: tall, skinny, with angular, model-like features, which told Gou without knowing her that this was probably a part-time gig alongside and in between photo shoots.

Stamping out the cigarette under her shoe, she scurried back into venue without a backwards glance, which only made the frown that had appeared on Haru's face deepen even more.

Not that Gou cared.

"What are you doing out here?" she said, placing a hand on her hip. "You're supposed to be engaging with the guests."

Haru directed his glare past her.

"I _was_ engaging with a guest," he defended, and Gou resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"That was a _waitress_ , Haruka-senpai."

The guitarist shrugged and proceeded to take a long drag from his cigarette, in a manner that indicated that he did not care either way.

With the patience of a saint, Gou watched him exhale the curls of white smoke from his thin, parted lips.

He said nothing as he held her gaze – a demonstration of his indifference, no doubt.

Even so, his cool, blue stare hardened his features attractively and it was quite possibly the first time that Gou allowed herself to admit that Nanase Haruka was a very handsome man.

He was tall, broad, dark and, due to her efforts, was impeccably dressed in a fitted, three-piece suit matched with a dark shirt and a burgundy tie.

Looking at him made her want to cry, because it simply wasn't _fair._

Despite Makoto vouching for him on several different occasions, her experience with the guitarist said otherwise and Gou often felt that his awful personality he did not match up to the gorgeousness of his face.

All of the _High Speed!_ boys were handsome in their own individual ways of course, but Haruka had the looks, the demeanour of the kind of guy that every girl did not want to admit that they liked.

He was not boyfriend material like Makoto, nor was he funny and charming like Nagisa.

He was nowhere near the suave gentleman that was Rei, because Haruka was the untouchable one: the boy that was out of everyone's league.

There was this air about him that made you feel like you were beneath him; that he would not give you the time of day – and this would, naturally, make every girl he came across want to be the one to prove him wrong.

Finally, he looked past her, at the chorus of cheers coming from the venue behind them, but Gou was too entrapped by his handsome profile against the darkness and the city lights to investigate the commotion herself.

"You're still here," he spoke, catching her off-guard.

She shifted the weight underneath her heels, grounding herself despite the evening wind threatening to draw a shiver from her spine.

"Yes. I don't plan on going back inside without you," she announced and was answered by the narrowing of his eyes.

"Are my cigarette breaks going to be monitored as well?"

"Of course not," Gou griped at him, "but you arrived just fifteen minutes ago. There are people that I'd like you to meet, who are looking forward to speaking with you too..."

She would have thought the prospect of meeting some well-respected members of the music industry would appeal to a budding artist like himself, but instead of a response, he stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby bin with an exasperated sigh.

Gou's face mirrored his frown.

She was becoming increasingly irritated by the way he acted as if everything she asked of him were somehow unreasonable.

She thanked the heavens that Nagisa, Makoto and Rei were easier to manage. They had been so excited about this evening. He could at least _pretend_ to have a good time, for their sakes.

Hands in pockets and with no inclination in moving from where he stood, Haruka took in his surroundings with unmistakable distaste – before training that poisonous gaze onto her.

She watched as his pupils travelled south; gliding down her body and roaming right down to her toes, but even as her cheeks burned under his blatant scrutiny, nothing in his vacant expression said that she had wowed him.

In fact, the short, silver number she had chosen for the evening, seemed to have pissed him off even more.

"What is the point of all this?" he asked, with a sweeping gesture of his hand.

Gou bit her tongue before she could remind him that he would have known the answer to _that_ – if he bothered to attend their team meetings little more often.

"It's a celebration," she replied, as graciously as she could. "We're all very happy that you have chosen to sign on with _Matsuoka Studios_ and want to commemorate the occasion..."

When he did not look so convinced, Gou added as a flat aside:

"...It's standard procedure for all new artists who join us," she explained. "It's chance for you to network and meet influential people who will be integral in your future successes…"

Though she had been proud of her answer and confident delivery, Haru did not look so convinced.

To him, the evening was waste of his time and energy – the red carpet that had been laid outside the clubs entrance a vanity parade of self-important people all wanting a piece of him, in some way or another.

When he did not react to her statement, Gou joined him at the railings.

The dizzying sense of vertigo that hit her as she glanced at the moving traffic twenty floors below, was nothing in comparison to the apprehension she felt in the wake of a long overdue confrontation with Nanase Haruka.

"Haruka-senpai," she said, followed by a deep breath that was meant to be steadying. "I've been meaning to ask. Do you have a problem with me?"

The man glanced at her from the corner of his eye and even then, she could not return his imposing stare.

"It's not you," he replied, after a moment's contemplation. "It's what you do."

Gou nodded, though she didn't quite understand what he meant.

A part of her was relieved that whatever issue he had with her was nothing personal, but something still wasn't adding up.

"But you...you've have had managers before," she said. "When you were with _Hidaka Records,_ you were managed by Azuma Ryuji. I approached him for some advice before I was appointed. He was your manager for years. He vouched for you–"

"–Well, he wasn't so focused on the..." Haru paused, looking for the right words. "...Extracurriculars."

Gou tilted her head to him in question, which he answered her with a grim, tight-lipped smile:

"But you," he continued, "you tell me who to speak to, how to dress, what to eat and where to _shit_."

It was the first time she had heard him curse but she knew from past experience that he was fully capable of it.

Nevertheless, she was taken aback by his tone: deceptively calm with a layer of iron underneath it.

She swallowed down the thickness forming in the back of her throat.

"If you think I'm being too imposing, then I thank you for being honest and I will take that feedback on. But in turn, I do expect some cooperation when I, as your _manager_ ," she stressed, "would ask you to do something that is in your contract and part of your _job_."

Where a clever retort had always been on the tip of his tongue, Haru remained silent for a timeless moment.

It was as if he were thinking over what she had said with far more consideration than she had intended, and Gou worried that she has perhaps been a bit too harsh with her words.

"What you ask of us – of all these _events_ that we have to attend…" he argued. "They have nothing to do with my music."

It was at that moment when things clicked into place, like finally seeing the full picture of a jigsaw puzzle she had been working on for a long time.

Haru was something of a purist.

She had been aware of it before but did not realise it was such an extreme case.

It made sense to her so now because he was always so fiercely possessive of his work, almost to the point of obsession.

Everything else did not matter to him, as long as he could continue to play his guitar.

"Maybe it isn't directly related," Gou spoke, reasonably. "But it's all part of being in a popular music group. Doing press releases, interviews and photo shoots, touring and selling merchandise...it pays for people's salaries, including yours. Everyone downloads music these days. It's no longer enough to write sell-out records. Events like tonight – well, they enable you to write your music for a living, share it with the world–"

"–And what if I disagree?" Haru challenged her before she could finish. "What if I don't want to do all those things because I _don't_ need to share my music with the world?"

"Then forgive me for saying this, Haruka-senpai," Gou finally snapped, "but you can't say that you don't need the money that you make when you own a penthouse in Azabu and drive an imported _Aston Martin_!"

Gou immediately regretted her outburst when the man bristled like a feral animal about to charge at its prey.

He looked so livid that Gou took a half step backwards, afraid that he might actually strike her.

She had taken it too far, she realised this now.

Makoto and the others had warned her that Haru was intensely protective of his privacy, and the knowledge she had just revealed was a blatant invasion of it.

Even though that information was readily available to anyone via a quick internet search.

"There you guys are," Ryugazaki Rei called from the terrace doorway, saving her ass. "Gou-chan, Haruka-senpai! They're about to start the speeches…!"

Dealing her one, last death-glare that meant something along the lines of ' _this-isn't-over-Matsuoka_ ' – Gou watched his back, broad and taut, cross the roof terrace to meet with Rei and disappear into evening crowd.

Gou's lungs swelled wide where she had been unconsciously holding her breath and her shoulders sagged, thankful for the release of tension.

Feeling faint, she hunched against the railings for support and shook her head, infinitely surprised by just how much of a _fucking asshole_ Nanase Haruka could be.


	3. Track 3

**Soundwaves Octaves**

 **By Confused Panda Bear**

* * *

 **Track 3.**

* * *

Swimming had always been good for Haru's mind.

There was not much to do in fifty metres but put his thoughts in order, which was always difficult when he had the compositions of three other musicians in his ear.

He had always been good at the sport, and if not for his aversion for swim meets or any kind of competition, he may have gone far and got the recognition he deserved.

So it was a good thing Haru was multi-talented enough to find something else that he could make a living off, and because he had his music, his morning swims became the leisurely time that he wanted it to be.

And then _that girl_ came along.

Even as he swam, he was thinking of her.

Most of the time, he could keep a lazy rhythm without breaking stride, but today he was wheeling his arms like windmills and putting the other (rather alarmed) casual patrons to shame.

As he was finishing up for the morning, Makoto appeared at the starting end pool, lending an outstretched hand.

Panting, Haru ripped off his swimming cap and hauled himself out of the water.

"What were you trying to do?" Makoto asked as his friend doubled over onto his knees. "Beat the world record for the 100m freestyle?"

Haru grabbed a towel and scrubbed it though his hair.

"I was just challenging myself," he dismissed, and before Makoto could pick holes into his explanation, made for the changing rooms with haste.

"You didn't turn up to the personal training sessions again this morning," his friend followed after him nonetheless. "Gou-chan is pissed…"

Haru couldn't help but smirk.

He said it like that was supposed to scare him.

"...You know how she gets when she's mad, it's hard to contain–"

"–Makoto, the girl is like this tall," he gestured a flattened hand at his collarbone. "I'm sure I can handle her."

In a crazy moment, his mind conjured up all the ways he'd like to handle her: of pulling her up by the hips whilst she was on all fours, or having her on top so that he could watch.

Mortified, he pushed the sordid thoughts to the back of his mind and looked to Makoto as if to check that he had not somehow heard them.

Thankfully, he was too preoccupied with his locker combination to have noticed anything unusual.

"What is your problem with her, anyway?" Makoto asked, pulling on a t-shirt. "She's nice enough."

Haru silently contemplated his answer, staring into his gym locker as if he had no intention of actually emptying it.

"She's just so…"

 _Distracting_.

"...young."

Makoto straightened up and faced him with raised brows, in the way that he did when he did not quite understand his logic, but endeavoured to humour him anyways.

"She's very competent for her age," he spoke, rather diplomatically. "And she does have some great connections..."

Haru scoffed, "that's only because she's a _Matsuoka_."

"Well, it'll really help if we want to get big–"

"–why is that so important all of a sudden?"

Makoto put his hands up in defence.

"I'm just saying – I think she's doing a great job. Rei and Nagisa think so too. She really wants this to work out for us, so maybe you should, y'know...cut her some slack?"

Following Haruka's outburst, the two changed into their casual clothes in silence.

Having been friends since they were toddlers, Makoto took no offence to whenever Haruka snapped at him. He knew he did not mean it. They had plenty of disagreements in the past and they always knew when it was time to back down.

Haru slammed his locker shut, pausing as he reached for his gym bag.

"It's her voice," he finally explained.

Makoto blinked.

"Her what?"

"Her voice," Haru repeated. "It irritates me."

He strode towards the exit without further explanation, leaving baffled Makoto in his wake.

He had to jog slightly to keep up with the man who was marching off with mission on his mind.

"Her voice?" he pressed. "What do you mean?"

"It just – gets in my nerves."

"It sounds pretty normal to me…"

Makoto could see that his friend disagreed simply by the way his jaw muscles flexed under his skin.

"Well, it isn't. It grates on my ears. And she insists on talking, all the time. Every word she speaks sounds like…"

 _She's asking me to fuck her until she screams my name and forgets her own._

"...a dying cat."

There was a slight delay before Makoto let out a laugh and Haru looked at him with no idea what he possibly could have said that was so funny.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, finally taking his sentiments into account. "If you feel that strongly about it, let's give it a month or so and decide as a group. How about that?"

Haru shrugged disinterestedly, knowing full well he'd be outvoted on any sort of debate.

Matsuoka Gou had that way with people – her preppy enthusiasm made you believe that anything was possible.

She had captivated the four of them in their first meeting. He could tell by the way the guys were looking at her, hanging onto her every word.

They acted like school boys amidst the prettiest girl in the class and even though Gou had been oblivious of their wandering eyes and their flirty comments, it was quite possibly the first time Haru had ever felt violent towards his band mates.

When Makoto told them about their new manager – a diligent, hard working woman who would whip them back into shape – he had not expected someone like her to walk into the room.

As irritating as she was, physically, she was appealing to him.

And he was still trying to wrap his head around why that was.

There was nothing particularly show-stopping about Matsuoka Gou except that she had these big, blinking set of eyes that were a such a unique shade brown, they almost looked a fiery red in the sunlight.

He liked her body, the way she moved with confidence in her own skin. When they had first met, she had been wearing a fitted pencil dress that skimmed her curves tastefully. It was office-like, professional, and not quite as appealing as that silver dress she wore at the launch event the other week, but _that_ outfit had just been teasing him.

Maybe, it was combination of that and her coy, coquettish voice, switching from commanding and submissive within a span of a sentence. It was her laugh; and the little gasps she made when she was impressed by something she heard, were so electrifyingly erotic even though she did not mean it to be.

And it was driving him _insane_.

"Oh, by the way," Makoto recalled as they were walking out of the gym. "Are you free tonight? Gou-chan arranged a little outing for us, to get to know each other more. It'll be fun?"

Haruka shook his head, not knowing why Makoto bothered to ask.

"Too much effort."

* * *

A week after the launch event, Gou was still writing thank-you notes and email apologies to the guests who were not able to meet the 'famous' Nanase Haruka, after he had left the event early due to being _'taken ill'_ (which was to be read as: _'stormed off without telling anyone'_ ).

She was working diligently at her computer when Kunikida Ayumu – the most junior member of the _High Speed!_ team – poked her head through her office door.

"Matsuoka-senpai," she said, voice apologetic. "Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that the table for tonight has been booked and paid for, as you asked..."

Gou shook her head and smiled up at her welcomingly.

Despite how busy she was, Gou had all the time in the world for Ayumu-chan.

The youngster joined _Matsuoka Studio's_ fresh out of high school but was quickly proving to a valuable employee. She was recently promoted from unpaid intern to Gou's PA slash junior media analyst and maybe she was being a little biased, but Gou saw a lot of herself in the young recruit and was keen to take her under her wing.

"Thank you," she smiled. "I hope to see you there?"

Ayumu looked taken aback by her invitation, but nodded feverishly as if Gou would change her mind in a second.

As she hurried back to her cubicle, Gou secretly hoped to herself that the girl really did enjoy working for her, and not just her family name. She was a nice person and seemed genuine enough, and god knew that Gou needed an ally in an environment that was set to see her fail.

It was no secret that everyone in the office – everyone in the company, in fact – thought that she was under-qualified for the job.

Though no one dared to say it to her face, it was always eluded to in their condescending words of advice and brought up behind closed doors in management meetings.

She tried her best to ignore it, most of the time. It had always been her personal policy not to pay attention to unconfounded criticism.

Sure, she had seen the opportunity and used her connections to get her where she needed to be, but she doubted that anyone one of them would not have done the same, given the chance.

And it really was the best chance in the world.

Three years ago, _High Speed!_ came out of nowhere as the new, up and coming band recording one chart-topping hit after another. But as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone – and with no straightforward explanation as to why.

It had been a PR nightmare. Thousands of fans were let down when they cancelled their nationwide tour, and though her studio had been thankful for the elimination of what was rapidly becoming a massive source of competition, they too mourned the loss of what was agreed to be a unique and brilliant talent.

When Gou heard that they were getting back together and seeking a new record deal, she knew that she had to get involved.

Of course, there was some push back.

Even though she had eventually been granted permission to approach the band by her grandmother, chairwoman of their studio, the elder woman had expressed her concerns with taking on a group whose previous record label had completely cut ties with.

But Gou knew their potential. They were still young, they still had a dedicated following, and their songs were still being played on the radio with royalties rolling in even after all those years.

Whatever might have happened back then, didn't matter now. She knew with their talent and the right management, they could reach that number one spot again – and had easily convinced Tachibana Makoto that _she_ was the one to get them there.

So, despite the protests, the outrage from her older and more experienced peers, it had never really occurred to her that she may be out of her depth.

She had always dealt with whatever life threw at her as best she should, but on top of the challenges and other people's doubts – she now had to deal with Nanase Haruka, the thorn in her side.

Taking a break from her perpetually filled inbox, Gou sat back into her chair and wondered what she had achieved from their conversation on the balcony the other week.

Though the evening had ended on a bitter note, she had taken aboard his feedback and conceded to the fact that controlling every aspect of his life wasn't going to be the way forward in achieving a harmonious partnership.

After some counselling from Chigusa (who was always an advocate of " _going out and letting loose every once in a while, Gou!_ ") she came up with the idea of arranging a fun, night off for all of them.

It was supposed to be something that wasn't to do with band activities or writing music, to prove to Nanase Haruka, and maybe herself, that she was _not_ the uptight, controlling bitch that he made her out to be.

Sadly, he was nowhere to be found at the swanky, all-expenses-paid club in Shinjuku that she had Ayumu book for them that evening.

And because of that, she was drunk by 10pm and venting her frustrations to anyone who would lend her an ear.

"Trust me, he doesn't... _hate_ you," Makoto attempted to console her, though the uncertainty in his tone made Gou snort into her drink.

"Well, he can't possibly like me all that much either!"

The singer cringed.

"It just...Haru's a little sensitive. It takes a little time for him to warm up to new people..." he attempted at an explanation.

The comical image of a cat version of Nanase Haruka appeared in Gou's mind, and that was when she realised that maybe she had knocked back one too many vodka shots that night.

It did not help her state, when Nagisa, Ayumu and Rei returned with another round of drinks, just as she had emptied her last one.

"Haruka-senpai?" Rei interjected. "I didn't think he'd come, anyway. Clubs aren't really his scene."

Nagisa nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, and Haru-chan doesn't drink anymore. He probably didn't want to be a drag..."

Gou accepted the fruity cocktail Nagisa handed to her, grateful for the band's encouragement.

Considering that they knew Haru better than she ever could, their words gave her a little reassurance – even though she was still convinced that the man had some sort of personal vendetta to make her life as difficult as possible.

"You should just try to get to know him more," Makoto suggested. "He'll be easier to manage once you know what he'll agree to."

And with that, Nagisa handed out shot glasses filled with clear, potent liquid, and raised his hand high for a toast.

"Come on. Let's enjoy tonight while we're here," he announced cheerily, and his party nodded and agreed. "Cheers!"

An immaterial amount of time passed before Gou found herself in the ladies bathroom, struggling to re-apply her lip gloss.

The alcohol had started to play tricks with her depth perception, and things were starting to seem closer than they actually were.

She was genuinely enjoying the company of Nagisa, Makoto and Rei, laughing hard and dancing with them as if they were old friends – but as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, shoulders slumped, she realised that the absence of their guitarist had still put a downer on the entire evening.

Ayumu appeared in the mirror behind her, drying her hands with paper towel.

"Matsuoka-senpai?" she said. "Are you ready to go?"

Gou nodded, and looking back at her own reflection, strained her lips into a toothy smile.

She was being ridiculous. She should not stop herself from having fun, just because Nanase Haruka was not here to witness it.

"Sure," she said, grabbing her clutch bag. "Let's go."

By now, the club was almost at full capacity and the dance floor filling with bodies jolting to the flashing strobe lights and pumping bassline.

As she walked through the crowds back to their table, Gou lost track of Ayumu when a hand grabbed at her wrist and spun her around to face its owner.

He had dark, curly hair and a hipster-ish dress sense about him, and by the way he was maintaining eye contact whilst moving his limbs to the music, indicated that all he wanted to do was dance.

She looked around for her party but saw no sight of them nearby.

Dancing was strangers was something that Matsuoka Gou did not do, but maybe someone her age should, every once in a while.

 _One song won't hurt_ , she thought to herself, though it was difficult to keep track when the DJ switched between the tracks so seamlessly.

Encouraged by her enthusiasm, her dance partner grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, grinding his pelvis against her backside. On any another day she would have pushed him away, but the music and the alcohol she had consumed had gone to her head and made her bold.

A song she liked came on and she raised her hands above her head and rolled her hips, thinking to herself that if Nanase Haruka were to see her now, would he change his mind about what he thought of her?

Soon enough, she caught sight of Nagisa and Rei walking across the dance floor and it was time to tell her partner goodbye.

"I'm here with work colleagues," she explained, holding him by his forearms. He almost looked upset. "I have to go. Sorry."

Not long after – and with some intervention from a very sensible Makoto – she was sent home in a cab shared with Nagisa a few minutes to midnight.

At this point, Gou was lying with her forehead pressed against the passenger window, as the motion of the car was sending her head spinning.

Nagisa patted the poor girl on the head, picking up on her disappointment in having held out with a hope that Haruka would show his face at the last minute.

"I don't know why he hates me, Nagisa-kun..."

"You should just talk it out with him," the blonde encouraged. "It's no good to anyone if you both continue on like this!"

Gou swayed in her seat, her inebriation making her more susceptible to Nagisa's perhaps foolhardy advice.

"You think so?"

"Yeah! Just give it to him straight," the blonde insisted. "Haru-chan's a smart guy, but he's a bit oblivious of how the way he acts might come across to other people..."

Gou appeared sceptical, unsure of how his deliberate defiance of her could come across as anything but being an asshole.

Sensing her apprehension, Nagisa leant in close and lowered his voice.

"If all else fails – between you and me," he cupped a hand around her ear, "you're totally his type! If anything, just use your sex appeal to get him to like you!"

Gou pulled away sharply and stared, wide-eyed at Nagisa's grinning face.

She felt her cheeks flush, a peculiar feeling simmering in the pit of her stomach.

It seemed impossible that someone like Nanase Haruka could ever find her attractive; but there _was_ something in the way that he looked at her, how he would watch her from the corner of his eye, that convinced her that there was some truth in Nagisa's words.

Gou came from a family of famous, glamorous people after all, so she knew was not so bad looking – and the guy she had met on the dancefloor earlier had certainly shown an interest in her and her 'moves'.

Before she knew it, and before she could contemplate the reason why, Nagisa had turned in for the evening and Gou was directing her taxi driver on a detour to the Nanase residence.

He answered the door in jogging bottoms and nothing else and she completely forgot what the hell she was doing at his house in the first place.

"I...um..."

Even though he appeared surprised, Haru did not say anything – wearing only a slight scowl on his face that made his striking features even more angled.

In her dumbstruck stupor, he proceeded to appraise the girl in his doorway with a leisurely pursuit and despite her own intrusion, Gou crossed her arms across her stomach, all of a sudden conscious of the figure-hugging black dress she had chosen for the occasion.

It was almost unnerving that – even though he was not touching her – his gaze, which lingered on every part of skin he could see, could be so intimate. She swore she could feel his hands all over her, reeling her in.

At last, he inclined his head in a way that commanded an explanation and finally, Gou relocated her tongue.

"Haruka-sen–"

"–Did you really go out dressed like that?" he immediately and inevitably interrupted.

Gou held back a groan.

He was so _pretty_ and _shirtless_ tonight.

Why, oh why, did he have to open his mouth?!

"Look, asshole–"

She prodded him hard in the chest, his uncouth comment triggering the delayed recollection of how she really felt about Nanase Haruka.

"–I came over because I wanted to sort out your attitude towards me once and for all!"

Haru rubbed the sore spot she had assaulted, the bemused expression he wore only adding fuel to the already out of control flame.

 _Jesus Christ._

Did this girl come over here for a fight?

"Wait a second–"

"–I'm tired of being trying polite and professional when you don't have the courtesy to be either!" she continued, the volume of her voice rising dangerously high. "In fact, you have been nothing but _rude_ and _obnoxious_ ever since we started working together!"

"Look, Matsuoka. It's pretty late and–"

"–The thing is, I don't know what I've done that's been so terrible?!" Gou screamed over his protests. "I'm just doing my job! And I want to help you guys as best I can! I even arranged a great night out for us all, but you don't even have the courtesy to show up. Is this because I made you see a nutritionist this week?! Because all I wanted you to do was eat something besides _mackerel_ –!"

"–What–?"

"–I know you don't think I'm qualified enough for the job but even then, you have no right to look down on me – just because I'm not some famous-musician-person like you! I'll have you know that I am extremely good at what I do and will be even better if you just – stopped being an _ass_!"

Gou heard a sob come from her throat, unaware in her frustration that she had started crying.

"I – I just want you and the guys to be the best!" she wiped her cheeks. "I _need_ you to become the number one band in Japan!"

Haruka stood, welded to the spot, unsure of what to do with the drunk, crying girl at his doorstep in the early hours of the morning.

Gou, with her face in her hands, was void of all concern. Her tiny shoulders were convulsing with her sobs and as if by reflex, he hauled her into the warmth of his arms.

Her breathing became unsteady – from her near mental breakdown or from Haruka's proximity, she could not really tell.

All she knew – all that she could register – was that he was so, so close.

Closer than she had ever thought they'd be.

Peering down the long stretch of corridor and into his empty flat, Gou came to the belated realisation that no one else was around but them.

If he wanted to, Haru could do almost anything to her.

The thought should have scared her, but all she felt was a cautious kind of curiosity.

She risked a peek up at him and felt their faces drifting close.

What would it feel like to be kissed by him, she thought. Would he put as much passion into it as he did when he glared at her?

Nervously, she ran her tongue across her lips and watched him mirror the motion, his gaze fixated on her mouth.

His head lowered ever so slightly, eyes darkening with unmistakable lust.

"Kou," he said. "Do you want to come inside?"


	4. Track 4

**Soundwaves Octaves**

 **By Confused Panda Bear**

* * *

 **Track 4.**

* * *

Gou woke to an unfamiliar ceiling looming above her.

The headache pounding at her temples was one felt only after a night out of drinking just a bit too much – where, all of a sudden, everything was just too _loud_ and too _bright_.

It took her an embarrassing amount of time to recall exactly where she was – and exactly how she got there.

Easing herself upright, she wiped the sleep and crusted mascara from her eyes, her movement making something – or rather, someone – stir underneath the covers next to her.

She froze, a burn of mortification roaming right down to the soles of her feet and braced herself before taking a peek.

Oh, _fuck_.

Her worst nightmare, in the form of no one else but Nanase Haruka, lay peacefully beside her.

And – like the absolute prick that he was – he was fast asleep and oblivious to the internal panic attack occurring right next to him.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

This cannot be happening.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Gou peered down at the floor beyond the bed where a trail of clothing lay like an accusing statement.

She groaned, head in her hands.

How in the world had this happened?

In his sleep, Haruka shifted slightly next to her and she glared at his angelic face, trying to conjure up an explanation that somehow made this _his_ fault.

Even though _she_ had been the one to visit, and the one to kiss him first...

Deciding not to dwell on the particulars, Gou scooped up her clothes from the floor and padded quietly out of the bedroom.

As her eyes adjusted to the morning sunlight pouring through floor to ceiling windows of his hallway, she glanced around at was simple and modest living space.

Having been too inebriated to fully appreciate it the night before, Gou was surprised to find nothing flashy or garish about the guitarists home.

It was however, unlike any boy's apartment she'd ever been in: spotlessly clean and orderly. The apartment was open plan with the kitchen and dining space being visible from the L-shaped sofa which she had stood behind.

Little else but the spectacular view over the city gave any inkling that it was worth a lot more than the average Tokyo apartment.

Where she had been in a rush to leave, Gou found herself admiring his neatly arranged collection of records, displayed proudly in a cabinet next to his vintage phonograph.

She let her fingertips glide over the covers before halting at one she had recognised, smiling before she could help herself.

So, Haru was a fan of her dad.

It really shouldn't have surprised her, because any budding guitarist who had grown up in his generation would list Matsuoka Toraichi at the top of their musical influences.

People often asked her what it was like to have a music-legend-turned-producer father: to grow up with his voice singing her lullabies.

He was incredibly talented and even to her, seemed larger than life – but with that, came an expectation from his children that seemed impossible to fulfill.

Rin, though he loved his father the most, had grown up bitter trying to surpass him, whereas Gou wanted nothing else but his recognition.

Carefully replacing the record, she located her clumsily discarded handbag and dug out her mobile phone, sighing with relief when she found that it had just enough battery to call a taxi (and maybe cry to Chigusa on the way home).

With a few minutes to spare before her ride arrived, Gou decided to freshen up in the bathroom to save judgment from her driver.

Locating it with ease, she grimaced at the reflection that stared back at her in the mirror above the sink.

Her eyeliner had created panda-like bags under her eyes and her hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, she was sure even a whole can of hairspray could not manage.

Deciding that she had experienced enough self-loathing for the day, Gou threw open the cupboard behind the mirror in search for some mouthwash.

Amongst the usual items of shaving cream and deodorants, she spotted something so obviously out of place that it seemed purposefully on display for all eyes to see.

She reached out to examine the tube of lipstick, removing the lid to reveal a _Chanel_ brand of deep, matte purple.

Her mother used to tell her that you could tell a lot about a girl by the shade of lipstick she wore – often reminding Gou, much to her annoyance, that her lack of makeup indicated that of having no pride in her appearance at all.

Gou sampled the colour on the back of her hand, the contrast against her pale skin an immediate indication that she was not the kind of girl that could pull off such a statement lip.

This was the kind of girl who wanted all eyes on her, who wanted to be seen.

Gou wondered who she was, what she was like – especially around Haru who, despite his fame and talent – preferred to stay out of the limelight.

Briefly, she wondered if she were still in his life.

In the distance, Gou heard the horn of her taxi announcing its arrival.

Snapping back into reality, she replaced the lipstick and shut the cupboard behind her, deciding that it was none of her business.

* * *

That morning, the _Matsuoka Studios_ head office was in a state of emergency.

It seemed as if the impossible had happened: Matsuoka Gou was late for work and currently unaccounted for.

And instead of getting on with their work and minding their own _fucking_ business, her colleagues had spent their mornings speculating in hushed tones, as to where in the world she could be.

Gou was _never_ late. Much to the annoyance of some of her co-workers, she was the embodiment of a model employee.

Had she been fired? Or sent to another division? Maybe, on the way home late last night, she gotten kidnapped and was currently tied up in an abandoned warehouse with a hefty ransom hanging over her head? She was the chairwoman's granddaughter, after all.

That was the latest theory circulating the cubicles by the time Gou was making her way up in the elevator – admittedly three hours late and on the phone to her best friend.

"You did – _WHAT_?!"

Gou winced and moved the device almost an arm's length away from her assaulted ear drums.

The sheer volume of her voice seemed to have alarmed the other passengers as well, given the way they glared at her when she glanced around at them, apologetically.

"Hana-chan, please..."

"Sorry, I'm just in shock," Chigusa breathed down the line – clearly feeling more amused than sympathetic. "Who _are_ you and where have you taken my best friend?"

Gou groaned, massaging her fingers across her forehead and hoping that the fever that she felt was fatal.

She certainly _wasn't_ feeling like herself that morning. Even the shower she had taken to wash away the 'sin' had not done much for her apparent lack of self-respect.

She did not regret her decision of heading home for a change of clothes, however. Even if it made her late, there was no chance of her turning up at the office in the same outfit she had left in the night before.

"You're not helping, you know."

"Well, there's not much I can do now, is there?"

"You can tell me how to fix this! I work with him! What am I supposed to do?"

"What most of our generation does in such a situation," Chigusa emassed. "Pretend it didn't happen and make memes about it."

She signed off after delivering her ever so helpful advice, citing that she needed to get back to work and so should Gou.

Ignoring the alarmed looks that she was getting from the other passengers, Gou pressed her head up against the cold, metal of the elevator doors with an audible _clunk_.

That morning, her state of mind had moved swiftly through what could only be described as the 'five stages of grief'.

She had spent the period of denial, wracking her brains for any other explanation as to how she had ended up in Nanase Haruka's bed, wearing his t-shirt and very little else. She did not remember much past the incident at his doorway. Perhaps nothing had gone on between them after all?

Of course, that logical train of thought was quickly overtaken by the stage of anger – at Haru, but mostly at herself, for being so _fucking stupid_ in the first place.

How could she have let this happen? She thought. She had always been so smart, so careful. There had to be a way to fix this, right?

She had money saved – and she considered paying him to keep his mouth shut.

But going by the location of his luxury, penthouse apartment downtown, it would probably amount to quite a hefty fee. She could ask her grandmother for help, but that would mean telling her why she needed the money, and that was not a conversation she was prepared to have with the seventy-five-year-old who had doted upon her all her life.

Gou moved into the phase of depression once she realised that she could neither buy, blackmail nor murder Nanase Haruka for his silence.

Now, all she could think about was: what was going to happen to her? Was her career as _High Speed!'s_ manager over before it had even begun?

It certainly felt that way, and the thought of all of her hard work going out of the theoretical window made Gou feel as if she should throw herself out of a real one.

Before she could reach the stage of acceptance, the elevator doors that opened straight onto the sales floor split apart and she stumbled through them – clearly unprepared for the uncanny silence that greeted her on the other side.

"Gou-san," said one, snivelling voice from way in the back. "Glad you finally decided to turn up for work today..."

Biting he inside of her cheek, Gou resisted the urge to sling back an equally sarcastic remark.

It was Tōno Hiyori – her direct manager and the guy who had pitched for the _High Speed!_ account before it had been awarded to her.

It wasn't a secret that he disliked her before and now it seemed as if he was out to get her at any opportunity her got.

Adjusting the grip on her handbag, she squared her shoulders and walked boldly down the lines of cubicles, decidedly ignoring the astonished looks from her peers.

"Late night?" Hiyori jeered as she passed his desk. "Might I remind you, Matsuoka, that your job description does not involve frolicking around with the band members–!"

She was just about to smack the glasses straight from off his smug, annoying face when she noticed Ayumu waiting timidly by her office door.

The younger girl was looking freshly made up and well rested, despite the consecutive shots of vodka Gou had personally witnessed her knock back the night before.

It was almost impressive.

How were the kids these days so resilient?

"–Um, Matsuoka-senpai?" she said, glancing behind her nervously. "Tachibana-san and Nanase-san have been waiting in your office for over twenty minutes now–"

"–W-What?!"

Gou's outburst echoed, alerting the entire office to a standstill.

She was not having a good day.

"It's just a quick meeting about the EP and potential release dates," Ayumu added quickly, because her employer looked as if she were about to faint. "It's been in your calendar for a couple of weeks now..."

"...Right," Gou cleared her throat, vaguely remembering scheduling in something of the sort, and hastily thanked Ayumu before she could embarrass herself any further.

Gou had been given her own office on her grandmother's insistence. It was a little over eighty square feet – enough to fit the two guests, a desk, a few storage cupboards and still have a little wiggle room to escape through the window if it came to it.

When she walked through the door, Tachibana Makoto stood to greet her.

"Gou-chan," he smiled, brightly. "How are you? Did you get home ok last night?"

Even though he spoke without a hint of accusation in his tone, Gou paled and struggled for an appropriate response.

She risked a glance at Nanase Haruka sitting down beside him, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. It seemed as if he had been gracious enough not to tell the singer about her late-night visit, though it was no reason to relax about it just yet.

"I did, thank you," she managed, slipping into the seat behind her desk. "And I'm sorry for my running behind this morning."

"It's fine," Makoto insisted. "We weren't waiting long."

Haru rolled his eyes in disagreement, somehow unaware that he was walking on a very thin line that morning.

Still, Gou could not risk angering him, knowing what he knew, so she pushed her murderous thoughts to the back of her mind and did what she did best: and that was talk business.

The contrast between Nanase Haruka and Tachibana Makoto was staggering. So much so that it was difficult for Gou to imagine how they had managed to remain friends after all these years.

Unlike Haru, Makoto was cheery and endlessly enthusiastic about their band. He was well aware of their talent and harboured higher aspirations for the both of them, and it was the reason why she had gotten along with him so well initially.

He and Gou both wanted similar things whilst Haru remained indifferent about fame and commercial success. It seemed as if the only reason he was present at their meeting that morning was because Makoto wanted him there, in hopes that whatever came out of it would change his mind.

For half an hour, she and Makoto and a bored looking Haruka, discussed their schedules for the next couple of months and all of the things that they needed in place before having a best selling album in the pipeline.

Though _High Speed!_ had been successful before, it was no longer the only factor that guaranteed that they would be again.

As much as they needed their music to be recognised, they had to have a media presence, a fan club following and to go above and beyond what already established groups were doing. They needed it to reach the right channels, to make appearances on the most listened radio shows and interview with the trendiest magazines.

It was a full-time job and something that Gou was very good at, despite whatever Nanase Haruka thought of her. There was a lot to consider outside of writing music, and almost all of which required at least _some_ of his participation.

Of course, the guitarist seemed to disagree when he yawned loudly over her, mid-sentence mentioning something about EP release dates.

As he moved a hand to cover his mouth, Haru watched her in the corner of his eye – just to make sure she was looking – and Gou faltered, completely forgetting what she was supposed to be saying.

It did not help that she was already on edge, conscious of the way he had been looking at her a certain way that entire morning.

He seemed to be scrutinising her every word: as if he knew something that she didn't, and was feeling incredibly smug about it.

Clearly amused with her reaction, a small smile appeared on his lips.

 _That mother fu–_

"–Tired, Haru?" Makoto interrupted her train of thought.

There was a hint of irritation in his voice that Haruka brushed off, messing with the hair on the back of his head as he replied:

"I was up late last night," he spoke dismissively enough for Makoto's ears – but the way his eyes were fixed on hers suggested more sinful connotations.

By now, Gou was practically shaking with rage but before the singer could suspect anything, she perked up in a half-joking, half really-not kind of tone:

"I can't imagine it would have been too late seeing as you weren't able to come out with us yesterday!" she teased to rid herself of any speculation, and thankfully, Makoto laughed along with her.

They wrapped up soon after, and before Gou could start wearing her sentiments on her sleeve.

Evidently pleased with the outcome of their meeting, Makoto thanked her for the support and said he would call in Nagisa and Rei to run through their new song later today.

"It's no problem, I can't wait to hear it," Gou enthused. "From what I've heard, your new songs sound amazing. Possibly even better than your first album."

"Well, I can't take any of the credit," Makoto dismissed, modestly. He went to clap his best friend on the back, "Haru wrote most of the lyrics and the music for this one."

Gou sent a strained smile at the man who stood, hands in pockets, unable to offer anything more as praise.

"Ah yes, Haruka-senpai," she managed, her voice unusually high. "Would it be alright if...I spoke to you for a minute?"

Thankfully, Makoto did not question her request, only sending his best friend a warning look that meant something along the lines of 'be nice' and 'behave yourself' before he left.

The atmosphere turned into one of a headmaster's office as Gou settled herself down opposite Haru: the naughty child on the other side of her desk.

He was sat, long limbs sprawled out in his armchair with the audacity to look bored or even irritated by her presence.

"Look," Gou began, when he made no indication to speak. "I...I just wanted to thank you for not telling Makoto-senpai about what happened last night."

The man eyed her curiously, apparently struggling to understand what she was getting at.

Gou shifted in her seat.

Mingled with the initial annoyance at his attitude came the internal upheaval that resulted only from being pinned under Nanase Haruka's scrutinising gaze.

He had looked at her the same way the other night on the roof terrace. A look that was deep, all-consuming, and drew an impetuous shiver down her spine.

It was amazing, the effect he had on her when he just kept his mouth shut.

She blinked long and hard.

 _Concentrate, Gou._

"And I think it would be best if we pretend that it never happened and try to maintain a...professional relationship," she continued. "Let's start over. Put yesterday night behind us. I know you're not very fond of me, but I'd rather not lose my job if someone finds out that we–"

"–Finds out that we what?" Haruka interrupted, to her amazement.

She gaped at him, wondering if she should be insulted.

Did he want her to say it, _out loud_? Put her through the embarrassment again?

She wouldn't have expected less from Nanase Haruka, if not for the genuine confusion in his tone.

Gou cleared her throat and tried to summarise:

"Well, about – how drunk I was last night, and how we–"

"–Relax," he cut in once more. "Nothing happened."

Gou's brows creased, unable to add the series of events up in her head.

Had he been drunk as well? It would be an adequate explanation for his apparent amnesia. But Nagisa said he didn't drink...

Then what the hell happened last night?

Was she losing her _fucking_ mind?!

"You were crying, so I asked if you wanted to come inside because you were making a lot of noise and it was late," he elaborated in her dumbstruck stupor. "Then, you took off your clothes and fell asleep."

Gou gaped at him, questioning whether or not she trusted his word even though a large part of her hoped that it was true.

"Then," she repeated slowly, "we didn't...?"

Haruka shook his head at her in a condescending manner.

"If we did, you'd definitely remember."

She dealt him a glare for his cheek.

"But," she lowered her voice to a hiss, "we kissed. I remember that!"

"So do I," Haruka spoke plainly. "Or rather, you kissed me. That was all. I don't take advantage of drunk girls."

Jaw still slack, Gou fell back onto the leather of her office chair, still holding his gaze.

It was true, she did not remember much after she had kissed him – but she could clearly recall how he had kissed her back: how the ground seemed to shift beneath them and how she found herself trapped against his tall body and the hallway wall and not minding it one bit.

Haru's is fingers flexed on the arm of his chair as if he had read her thoughts.

She tracked the movement with her eyes, trying to conjure up the memory of them mapping out the curves of her body underneath her clothes.

He had done so, with such practised expertise that it on some level, it did not surprise her that she had ended up in his bed soon afterwards.

She could not believe that, after all that she had went through that morning, there was a tiny part of her that was a little disappointed that nothing had happened between them after all.

Because that was all she could think about now, all alone in that tiny office with him. And she was sure by the way that he was looking at her now, that he was thinking exactly the same thing.

Haru lent forward in his seat: a fleeting contemplation passing through his mind of whether the desk was sturdy enough to hold the both of them.

"Kou, do you–?"

Her desk phone rang, breaking their trance, and Gou pressed the loudspeaker button without thinking.

"–What?" Gou answered, rather rudely to Ayumu on the other line.

"Your-brother-is-on-line-two," the poor girl spoke in one breath.

Quickly, she picked up the receiver.

"Onii-chan, I'm a little busy–"

"–Gou!" Rin spoke loudly to be heard over the industrial background noise of wherever he was. "Where are you?"

She looked towards the man across her desk, annoyed that he always seemed to catch her in the most unprofessional situations.

"Onii-chan, I'm in a meeting," she whispered.

"Seriously? I thought we said 12pm?"

"12pm for what?"

"Dad's birthday," she could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Wait, did you forget?"

Gou gripped the hair on her forehead with her free hand.

With all that had happened, she had not even thought to check her calendar which had been booked out for the entire afternoon.

How could she forget her own father's birthday?

She was already imagining the headache she was going to get from her brother, having earlier on in the week, guilt-tripped him into freeing out his diary for the day.

"No," she lied, standing from her seat. "Stay there, I'm on my way."

She hung up the phone before Rin could get the final word, and as if completely forgetting about Nanase Haruka, began shoving her belongings into her handbag and swapping her heels for a pair of running shoes instead.

"I need to go," she said when he made no indication to leave.

Haru shrugged in a no-big-deal kind of way.

"Say hi to Rin for me."

Gou paused in her rush: first realising that whatever had or had not happened was still to be resolved, and second because she had no idea that Haru knew her brother at all.

Nodding, she grabbed her bag and strode towards the exit, thinking it best to deal with all of her problems, one at a time.


	5. Track 5

**Soundwaves Octaves**

 **By Confused Panda Bear**

* * *

 **Track 5.**

* * *

Rin leant up against the railway station wall, one foot resting casually against the brickwork in an attempt to blend in with the crowd.

He was donning an unassuming black cap to cover his red, ponytailed hair, yet passersby's were still dealing him double takes in his peripheral vision.

He paid no heed to them, however, as he scrolled down his social media feeds for the hundredth time.

 **[ I can't wait for #HighSpeed! to start touring again! ]**

 **[ It's been too long! #highspeed! #finally ]**

After what felt like an eternity, Gou – his usually punctual little sister – emerged from the bustling commuter crowd, clutching a sad looking bouquet of flowers and sporting the odd combination of a pencil skirt, dark tights and bright red running shoes.

"S...Sorry I'm late," the girl barely managed through laboured breaths.

Rin looked to his watch, and clicked his tongue against his teeth.

"I thought you said you were on the way?"

Gou pouted up at him, "I ran all the way here!" she defended fiercely.

"Clearly not very fast," he teased, and was rewarded with a foot in the shin that hurt a lot more than he liked to admit.

The train out of the city was packed with high schoolers breaking up for the weekend.

Rin stood over Gou in the corner of the carriage whilst she hugged the supermarket flowers close to avoid them getting crushed – a fruitless endeavour, considering that half the petals had fallen in her mad rush to reach him on time.

He smirked to himself.

Maybe she _did_ run all the way to the station.

A short bus ride and a hike through the local park followed until they had reached their destination: a little town called Iwatobi that lay just outside of the city, where their father had grown up.

Rin imagined his father had a great upbringing in the neighbourhood, which was just far enough out of the city's hustle and bustle, but still near enough to see the glimmering buildings in the horizon.

Gou must have been too busy admiring the same view to look where she was going, because the path up to the cliffside was worn and unpaved and with a misplaced step, became loose under her shoe.

Rin steadied her by the arm before she fell flat on her face.

" _Careful_ , Gou."

She righted herself and thanked him timidly.

With their schedules, the Matsuoka siblings hardly had any time to speak on the phone let alone corner some time so see each other, so he was expecting a detailed account of the goings on in Gou's life that afternoon.

Rin watched after his sister as she continued their hike in an unusual silence.

It was obvious that there was a lot on her mind.

"How's work?" he asked, with fixed casualness.

"It's ok…" she dragged, like she wanted to elaborate but unsure if she should.

"Something bothering you? Are the band members being difficult?"

Her brother's slightly threatening tone caused Gou to wave her hands hastily in defense.

"No, they're great!" she urged. "They're lovely guys, really…"

Even after her insistence, Rin still appeared skeptical.

"...Even Nanase Haruka?"

Gou stopped in her tracks.

The questions she had – the jumble of what, where and how – came out as a feeble attempt to appear unperturbed.

It was unnerving on its own, hearing the name of the guy she had unintentionally made out with come out of her brothers mouth and a nonsensical, overly paranoid side of her wondered if Rin somehow _knew_.

Gou pushed that absurd thought aside as quickly as it had surfaced because, how could he have found out? And if he had, she was sure that Nanase Haruka would not have been walking around Tokyo so freely that morning, with two working legs no doubt.

Her voice wavered all the same.

"I...didn't know you knew him?"

Rin shrugged and continued walking, acting as if it were supposed to be common knowledge.

"He, Makoto and I attended the same school for a while, before I went to _Juliard_."

Gou stared down at the flowers in her arms, trying her best to remember Rin ever mentioning Haruka or the boys before and was unable to recall any instance.

Even when she had told him that she had gotten the job as their manager, the association did not seem to register.

Then, she remembered that this was nothing out of the ordinary: that the details of Rin's personal life were always few and far between.

He continued, when she did not respond:

"...Haru can be an insufferable bastard sometimes, but I wouldn't be too hard on him."

Gou blinked.

"How did…?"

"I know Nanase Haruka – and I know _you_."

He laughed at her dubious expression.

"He's had a rough few years," Rin explained. "You know how he lost his parents, right? Well, his grandmother who practically raised him, passed away two, maybe three years ago as well..."

"Is that why the band took that long break?" Gou pressed, but her brother shook his head negative.

"...I guess. That, amongst other things."

Before Gou could question him any further, they came upon the cliffside cemetery where their father's ashes had been scattered: allegedly his favourite spot and was not contested, given the amazing view of the town and across the pier, the city skyline touching the clouds.

Rin had already gone ahead to greet their fathers gravestone, leaving Gou to simmer over what he had just told her about Haru.

Their own father had suddenly died almost seven years ago now, of an illness that seemed to come overnight and take his life faster than they both could process.

Gou thought she would never get over the grief. She had cried herself to sleep for months, whilst Rin had resented the loss and closed himself off from the world.

She had learnt then, that people dealt with death in different ways and realised that maybe, Nanase Haruka was still hurting.

Gou joined her brother and kneeling down beside him, placed her poor contribution of flowers to the garden of others laid around his grave.

"Happy birthday, dad," she spoke, tracing stone with her fingertips.

She had always found it easier to speak to her father than her mother.

She had gone to him for advice for as long as she could remember, and though his words were sometimes harsh, Gou was convinced they got her to where she was in life today and that, even in death, she felt as if she still had a lot to prove to him.

"I got that job I was telling you about," she said, excitedly. "It's hard, but the guys are really talented. I'm sure they'll be the number one band in Japan–!"

"–Are they really that good now?" Rin interrupted her, unexpectedly.

"Yes," Gou enthused, "their new songs are incredible. As much as he annoys me sometimes, Haruka-senpai is a genius."

Her brother was also a musician and, like their father, was blessed with the talent and the looks that ensured the success of his first solo album released a few years ago now.

Even so, Rin did not seem satisfied with his achievements. Having parents with more than fifty awards between them did that to you.

Gou could tell that he was mulling over the news by the way he processed her words with an expression of intense concentration on his face.

He was always a bit more competitive than she could ever be.

"How about you, onii-chan?" she encouraged. "Are you going to write something new soon?"

"Yes," Rin nodded. "I have a few ideas."

* * *

Haru sat, elbows rested on top of the black gloss of a grand piano, with one hand under his chin and the other, absentmindedly twirling a pencil around his forefinger and thumb.

The sudden urge to write music after Gou's frantic departure had dissipated after the events that followed that same afternoon.

Before they could finish, whatever it was that they had started, she had to go to meet with her brother – leaving in her wake, the unwelcome reminder that his most recent object of lust was in fact, Matsuoka Rin's little sister.

As if the guy didn't hate him enough already.

His fingers twitched, mimicking chords across the frets of a guitar.

 _I had no idea that I'm in deep_  
 _I dreamt about you near me every night this week..._

"Haru," Makoto had called him on his cell phone, messing with his flow. "Are you done with Gou-chan?"

"Have been for a while now."

"Great! I'm with Nagisa and Rei practising your new song..."

 _How many secrets can you keep?  
_ _'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow  
And I play it on repeat, until I fall asleep..._

Letting himself into the recording studio, Haru took a seat behind the producer's deck which looked as if it was taken from a set of a sci-fi movie, with its panels of switches, buttons and sliders spanning the length of the entire room.

In the small, soundproofed room next to them, were Makoto, Rei and Nagisa mid-melody in one of his latest songs.

He immediately recognised the opening chords and the lyrics that followed, which always sounded better when Makoto sang them.

Due to his late arrival, Haru did not want to interfere and was enjoying the sound of his composition come to life.

Until the upbeat bass line and out-of-place drum beat kicked in.

He had shoved the poor sound engineer out of the way to grab hold of the mic that would enable him to speak to the band behind the glass — not that he needed it.

"What the _hell_ was that?!" he condemned with an abruptness that made everyone in the room flinch.

Even though they were in an entirely different room altogether, the band members cowered.

The younger duo looked to Makoto to explain on their behalf.

"Uh, Gou-chan–"

" _–What_?" Haru interrupted, unable to assimilate any reason why the girl's name was being mentioned at all.

"Gou-chan said..." Rei interjected, unsurely. "...She said we had too many...slow songs in this album. That we needed to liven this one up a bit..."

And now, here he was, barricaded in one of the studio's practice rooms, trying to figure out how Matsuoka Gou was always finding new and inventive ways to _piss him off_.

Haru did not think himself an unreasonable person.

He just did not believe in spending his time doing things that he did not want to do.

If anything, his manager should be grateful for the fact that he even made the effort to turn up to a photo shoot or a mind-numbing interview every once in a while.

He had made it plainly obvious to her that he wasn't interested unless is had something to do with writing music – but even in knowing this, the girl still felt the need to interfere with that as well.

Which turned out to be the proverbial 'last straw.'

Who the _hell_ did she think she was?

 _So have you got the guts?_  
 _Been wondering if your heart's still open and_  
 _if so I wanna know what time it shuts..._

As if by reflex, Haru's lean fingers skimmed the ivory keys of the piano and picked out the exact chord progression that he had been composing in his head with practiced expertise.

His right hand fiddled with a melody and his lyrics wrapped around them seamlessly, in a way that very few people in the could achieve with his current level of arrested attention.

He was aware that on some level, his attraction for Gou was getting out of control and that it was perhaps causing him to overreact like he did.

Makoto and the guys were right: she had good intentions, she just wanted to help – but all that she needed to do was stay out of his way and stop being so distracting and things would have got along just fine.

If she didn't absolutely insist on his participation in everything, music-related or not, maybe she wouldn't have turned up at his doorstep, inebriated and crying her eyes out like a spoilt child refused of their dessert.

It was adorable and stupidly, he kissed her – and now that he'd had a taste, it was hard to resist going back for more.

Abruptly, he let his fingers slide off the keys and onto his lap, unable to concentrate as thoughts of Matsuoka Gou filled every crevice of his mind.

He tried to put a stop it, his forehead wrinkling with the effort, and was convinced that he was going mad.

It was _everything_ about her; the way she felt, the smell of her perfume, seemed to blank out all other senses but the insanely instinctive need to find out what the rest of her body tasted like.

And despite her obvious dislike for him, Gou had been incredibly receptive to him the other night.

He had revelled in the little moans that escaped her lips when he had her up against the wall; the way her body reacted to his every touch.

If it wasn't for his conscious reminding him how drunk she was – he was sure she would have gladly come to his bed and let him show her who really was in charge.

 _I'm sorry to interrupt it's just I'm constantly_  
 _on the cusp of trying to kiss you..._

"Haruka-senpai?"

Haru spun his head around so fast that he almost fell off the piano stool.

To his horror, Matsuoka Gou was stood by the practice room entrance, hands folded behind her back.

 _How long had she been standing there for?_ he panicked, paranoid that he had been thinking about her so much that he had somehow summoned her.

"I haven't been here long," she answered his unspoken question. "Sorry if I seemed creepy. I just didn't want to interrupt…"

She went to say something else, to compliment him on what she had heard, but instead, she went to explain:

"Makoto-senpai said you'd be in here."

Haru schooled his surprise with an exasperated expression.

She took a tentative step further into the small room and he turned back to the keyboard: a demonstration of her dismissal as well as a means of occupying his hands before they reached out for her unwittingly.

Gou continued, "he told me about what happened at the studio after I left this afternoon."

Haru did not even take the time to face her, the sigh he heaved from his shoulders was plainly in her view.

"And I suppose you're here to tell me off for my behaviour?"

"That's not–" Gou caught her rise in tone and tampered it down. "–I just wanted you to know that it was my fault, so don't be angry at them. They were just listening to my instructions. I thought that the song needed... _something_ else, but–"

"–Look, Matsuoka."

The beautiful tune Haru had been tinkering with, came to an abrupt end when he finally stood to address her.

Although grateful that he was fully acknowledging her presence now, Gou found herself in the line of fire of his icy gaze once again.

A part of her – the sane part, no doubt – immediately wanted to run and get back up, but the other – more stubborn and idiotic part – stood soldered to the spot to his attention.

Because even as he surveyed her with all the contempt he could muster, the breadth of his shoulders beneath his t-shirt and his hardened, handsome face was enough to render her unable to produce the words to rebuke his rude interruption.

"You and I don't get along, that much is obvious–"

"–Th–That's not–"

"–But I've decided to be reasonable," Haru spoke, punctuating every word with a step towards her.

Gou swallowed.

"Reasonable?"

Haru nodded, slowly.

"Yes. I won't tell anyone about last night. We can forget it ever happened. And I won't complain about every little insignificant thing you make me do from now on. You can tell me what to say, where to go – how to act, how to dress..."

He stopped in front of her, all of a sudden larger than life.

"...But I am _not_ changing the music," he completed, in a cool voice that harboured the slightest layer of iron underneath it.

Gou's throat flashed at his unexpected proximity.

She had compensated his advances by taking tiny steps backwards, until her back collided with the far wall of the practice room.

Haru stood over a foot taller than her and was so close, she wondered if he could hear her heartbeat shift in tempo in her chest.

He was always passionate when he talked about his music; when he had a guitar in his hands.

She almost allowed herself to be impressed by his resolve – if not for the fact that he was looking at her as if he were waiting for her rebuttal and arming himself with his next, spiteful blow.

Gou straightened her spine, the couple of centimetres she gained giving her the boost confidence she needed.

Despite the harsh delivery, Haru – in true 'Haru' fashion – had completely and concisely covered everything that she wanted to say.

Following the conversation she had with her brother that afternoon, Gou came away with rare insight into Nanase Haruka's past and personal life.

There was more to him than the arrogant songwriter-slash-artist he made himself out to be: someone she could actually relate to and eventually work well with.

She had to let him know now, that they were on the same page, before whatever sympathy she had accumulated for him disappeared.

"Fine," she spoke, just as brassily. "I won't interrupt from now on – and I won't touch the music. But I am still your manager, Haruka-senpai. And I think that it is only fair to ask that _you_ step aside let me do my job when it comes to everything else."

Pleased with her steady delivery of what was probably the most adult exchange the duo had ever had, Gou paused to appreciate the confounded look on Haruka's face.

He had obviously expected some pushback from his manager and was left without a response.

So instead, he cast her a withering look.

"Fine."

" _Good_."

"Okay then."

The clock on the wall above the piano ticked twenty times and neither of them had moved.

Their breaths mingled, and a sense of nostalgia tugged from behind Gou's navel and she wondered if he felt it too.

Curious, she glanced up at the guitarist from under the cover of her bangs and was surprised to find him devouring her frame with his eyes.

There it was again: that look. The one that had Gou convinced, no matter what he said or how he acted, that he wanted her.

Just as much as she wanted him.

She licked at her lips, moistening them to speak, and Haru averted his gaze sharply.

Temporarily released from his scrutiny, Gou went to say something, but a split second later, his eyes were back on her.

Almost unconsciously, Haru had glanced to the only piece of furniture sitting in the middle of the room.

Yes. The piano was definitely sturdy enough to support the both of them.

"Um, Haruka-senpai...?"

Haru's hands clenched and unclenched, thinking over every possible outcome that would result from kissing her now, all of them ending in disaster.

He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't.

They had just come to an agreement. One that would work for the both of them.

If he fucked her now, he would fuck everything up.

Gou cleared her throat.

"We should..."

She looked up at him, surprised to see that he was nodding, as if he was agreeing to her unfinished suggestion without even knowing what it was.

"...We should get going," she said, ducking her head. "It's late, and it's been a long day…"

The words hung in the air unanswered, until Haru took two controlled steps backwards, running a hand through his dark hair.

"I think I'll stay a bit longer," he said and Gou nodded, all of a sudden coy as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ok," she said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Right."

"Have a good evening."

"You too."

Gou left the room but did not depart immediately. She stood to catch her breath in the hallway, whilst Haru paused before returning to his seat at the piano: the both of them needing a moment to recover, with their backs rested against either side of the door.


End file.
